Picture Sunday

Hello, end of long weekenders, and welcome to another mind-numbing edition of Picture Sunday.

Yes, four days off, count them if you dare. And you know, I love a day off more than anyone, but sometimes long weekends aren't so good for me. Because if I have time to loaf, I, well, you know, loaf. I waste time, I'm lazy, I stay up too late and sleep too late, and though I don't really look forward to going back to work, I think I need to get back on a schedule of some sort.

I attended the annual Refugee's Thanksgiving Dinner this year, I think this was about year six. This time it was Mr M, me, and the DeepFatFriar. We held the dinner at the Friar's abode, as he was doing the main course, which was elk. Now, I must say, I was a little skeptical about eating elk, and I made a small back-up turkey breast just in case. I also made a pumpkin pie for the boys. Oh, and deviled eggs, which were all eaten before we got to the dinner table.

But I have to tell you, the elk was magnificent. It was not unlike roast lamb, was rare, thick, juicy, and the turkey was immediately relegated to leftovers status. We also had garlic mashed potatoes, Mr M made a tremendous stuffing and also made his famous $21 salad, which has sadly become the $27 salad in these trying times, there was broccoli and homemade cranberry sauce, and it truly was a feast.

It was also a very lovely and relaxing day.

Of course Sherman and Peabody stopped by.




















Anywhere there's dinner, you'll find Sherman.

Since we were at the Friar's, I thought maybe this week's Picture Sunday could be a tour of his humble home. As you might imagine, and you'd be right, it's chockfull of interesting things.

Like his portrait, painted for him by a friend. I love this - if any color put to paper could correctly catch the spirit of the DeepFatFriar, this is it.

























Oh, here's Mr M relaxing in the wheelchair. Yes, one of the chairs in the living area is on wheels. Mr M is playing dead for me here, but he declined when I offered to go to the stairs with him and play a little "Richard Widmark and the Old Lady."

























Now, the Friar has the best shelves in the world. I've coveted them ever since I saw them. They cover an entire wall.




















And here is the man himself, fresh off serving his elk.





















Lovely.

And in keeping with an old tradition, before we left I put the pie tote on my head.
























Notice the look of excitement mixed with pain? That's because a pie tote, a plate, and a glass pie pan lay very heavy on the head. My neck was about to snap.

Since we're talking Thanksgiving here, I thought I'd post a little recipe du jour. I'm very proud of myself, you know. I finally learned how to make a recipe card in the new version of Paint Shop Pro. I don't know why they have to change the procedures on things from version to version, and this lettering thing was driving me around the bend. But it came to me tonight.

Tonight's recipe features my squishy rubber chicken. I take him to Oktoberfest and we all throw him around and squeeze on him up there. Mr M hates the squishy chicken with a passion, especially when I shake it at him and say, in an accent worse than I actually have, "Lawdy, he'p me! He'p me, he'p me, they gon' put me in a pot!"

Well, our little friend finally got put in a pot for dinner and is now the star of his own recipe du jour. From the "Not for the Hungry" file in Cardland, please say hello to Thanksgiving Dinner.






















All you need are a squishy rubber chicken and some croutons. Squishy rubber chickens aren't worth the effort of making stuffing.

Happy week.

Betland's Olympic Update:
* And now trash duty and to bed. Back to life.